


Say Something

by Vagabond



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Character Study, M/M, Relationship Study
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-27
Updated: 2014-02-27
Packaged: 2018-01-14 00:00:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1245172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vagabond/pseuds/Vagabond
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four times Reese sought out comfort and one time comfort met him where he was.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Say Something

**Author's Note:**

> I was listening to [Say Something - A Great Big World](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-2U0Ivkn2Ds&feature=kp) on repeat last night and this is what came out of my head. I don't know what my fascination is with Reese lately. When I first started writing fic I stayed far, far away from his headspace but now I appear to live there. 
> 
> I took a bit of artistic liberty with him. It felt right, though, so I hope I still did him justice.

_And I am feeling so small_   
_It was over my head_   
_I know nothing at all_

_And I will stumble and fall_   
_I'm still learning to love_   
_Just starting to crawl_

*  
Reese woke up covered in sweat, his limbs still heavy with sleep. With a gasp he shoved the blankets off as quickly as he could and sat up. As the fear began to wear off he walked himself through his typical grounding routine.

“I’m not drowning. My name is John Reese. I am in New York City…” he trailed off as his breathing became manageable again. The cold air against his damp body made him shiver. He looked around the room, eyes adjusting to the dim city light coming through his windows.

Frustrated, he slipped out of bed and into the bathroom. He relieved himself and turned on the shower. Without waiting for the water to heat up, Reese stripped, stepped under the steady stream, and allowed it to wash away the grimy, salty sweat that clung stubbornly to his skin. It ran over the top of his head and into his eyes, down along his lips where he licked at it anxiously. About fifteen minutes was all he needed as the water took with it the remnants of the nightmare.

He shut off the water and got out, toweling off. Next he dressed warmly and left the apartment and his nightmares behind. Reese just walked for a while. His muscles relished the chance to stretch and work. As he walked he realized he wanted to go to the library, so he did. He climbed the familiar steps, opened the gate that Finch never failed to lock before leaving, and stepped inside. The smell of old, musty books wrapped around him comfortably.

Bear approached and let out a questioning whine, tail half-wagging as Reese pat his head and scratched him behind the ears.

“Don’t worry, Bear. I’m spending the night.” He insisted and turned toward the left, away from the room with Finch’s computers. That space was dedicated to the numbers and he had a different venue in mind. With Bear at his heels, Reese made his way down a hall to an old, tattered leather couch. It was situated against a wall beneath a window which let in just enough light to remind him that there was still a world outside.

Reese dropped tiredly onto the cracked leather and shoved one of the throw pillows toward one end as he laid back and sank into the cushions. Bear whined again and caught his attention. He stared at the dog for a moment before sighing and patting his chest. The next minute he had Bear settling on top of him with a lick to his chin. It took a bit of shifting to get comfortable but he finally managed it, and man and dog slept fitfully.

 

*  
They argued about Root one night and it ended in yelling.

Finch had thought it appropriate to bring the woman to the library and lock her up. Reese, of course, had other ideas of what to do with her. His ideas often included some thoughts of violence and Root never being seen again. Yet Finch kept insisting he had to try to help her, he couldn’t just let her go, and he couldn’t allow Reese to kill her.

“Do you think I’d kill her in cold blood, _Harold_?” he spat his partner’s name, his nerves on fire. He flexed his hands to resist the urge to grab Finch by the neck and shove him against a wall. “Is that the kind of man you think I am? Do you think that is what I do to people?” It wasn’t really about Root anymore, it was about pride. It was about Finch’s perception of who Reese was. Deep down, it was also about Reese’s perception of himself and the life he was trying to so desperately leave behind.

“Mr. Reese-” Finch began and Reese was silent, his breathing heavier than usual and his heart rate elevated, but when the other man said nothing he let out a frustrated growl.

“Forget it, Finch.” He was done. He turned and left the library, trying to erase Finch’s look of utter shock from his memory. If Harold still believed he was nothing but a killer then maybe there really wasn’t any hope for him.

His phone kept ringing in his pocket and by the fifth call he ripped out the battery and crushed the cell phone beneath his foot. A passerby hesitated at the scene but all it took was one look from Reese and the man kept walking. He left the cell phone on the ground and kept walking.

Reese walked until he found a man getting into his car. He thrust a roll of one hundred dollar bills in his face and asked for the keys. With the keys in hand he told the driver to report the car stolen later and then glanced at the fading image of a confused man in the rearview mirror. He drove until the city fell away and buildings became rows upon rows of trees. North, he was going North and he wasn’t quite sure why until he ended up at Jessica’s old house.

As he stared at the house and saw lights inside he thought for just a moment that Jessica was safe and sound inside.

The old woman standing on the porch pointing a shotgun at the car shattered that illusion. He shut off the engine and lights and stepped out of the car, hands raised.

“Now, what is it someone could possibly want at this hour?” she asked, head tilted to the side. She was short, small, and grey haired but even from a distance Reese could tell the woman had a fire in her eyes that meant she would shoot.

“My friend lived here once. She’s dead.” The words left his mouth before he could hem them in or make them pretty. He was speaking before he could erase the despair from his words.

“Come in, son.” She said very gently and lowered the shotgun as she motioned her head toward the door. “You look like you could use something to drink. My name is Doris.”

Reese nodded and walked toward the door, accepting the invitation. He stepped inside and knew immediately that the house was different. It didn’t feel like it had the night he’d shown up to teach Peter a lesson and say goodbye to Jessica. There was a homey feel to it, a certain warmth that washed over him and made him feel strangely okay.

“I’m John.” He stated absently as he wandered into the sitting room.  
“Well then take a seat, John. I’ll make us some tea.” Doris replied and walked past the sitting room back into what he presumed was the kitchen. There were pictures of family members on the mantel and Reese’s eyes scanned over every single one. Children, grandchildren, a husband who had passed away, they were all preserved within little snapshots, framed and loved.

He lost a bit of time because the next thing he knew, Doris was back in the room with a tray containing two hearty mugs and a teapot. She set it delicately on a side table and poured the tea into both mugs before motioning for him to sit down on the couch. For some reason Reese obeyed, even though his brain told him to get out of there. He shouldn’t trust the woman just as much as she shouldn’t trust him, but somehow they’d both gotten over fear and chosen camaraderie.

So Reese sat and sipped his tea. He thanked her quietly and she waved her hand dismissively. They sat together in silence.

“You let a stranger into your house, make him tea, and let him sit in silence.” Reese pointed out after a solid ten minutes of quiet. Apparently something he said was amusing because Doris was smiling.

“My dear, I’ve learned that sometimes the most comforting thing in the world when we’ve had a rough time of it is to sit in silence with someone who has no expectations. I have no expectations.” She nodded and sipped her tea.

Reese sat in silence and realized it was exactly what he needed.

 

*  
Puallup, Washington wasn’t much of a town but Reese hadn’t known where else to go. After the shooting he had healed up, visited Carter’s grave, apologized to her profusely, and then disappeared. Finch had tried to get in touch, Fusco too, but he’d left his cell phone in Colorado where he’d caught his connecting flight.

The bar wasn’t the first place he went. It was where he would eventually end up, but he had somewhere else he needed to go first. Reese rented a car with Finch’s money and hated himself a bit for it, but knew there was no other choice. He drove out of the town a bit and pulled into a gravel parking lot. It was a small parking lot attached to a small, wooded park. Of course the sun was setting but it didn’t stop him, nothing would.

As he stepped out of the car he inhaled the scent of damp bark. It had been so long since he had left New York, since he’d been back in the Northwest and could breathe in the clean air. Clouds were rolling in and they were bound to get a decent storm because Reese could smell the moisture in the air. Everything was alive around him as he stepped out of the parking lot and onto the grass.

Manicured grass quickly became thick, squishy organic material and he knew he was getting closer to his destination. It was almost as if he’d never left, the way his feet remembered the unseen path. He followed it to a large alder tree and stood at the trunk, staring up into the leaves. Gently he drew his fingertips over the bark, his eyes closed as he remembered climbing the tree as a child. One of his friends had lost a dog in the area and Reese had been the only one strong enough and brave enough to climb high into the tree to try and see the movements of a spooked dog in the forest.

With his eyes open he hoisted himself up onto one of the lower branches. It bent slightly under his weight but didn’t give. He climbed higher, moving from one branch to another before he didn’t dare to move any further. Perched in the tree Reese settled down with his back against the trunk, eyes westward toward the sunset. The wind rustled the leaves of the trees around him and he remembered the old tales he was told as a child of how the trees talked to one another. He listened to them talk, heard the howl of a dog in the distance, and listened to the underbrush rustle as the animals of the day tucked themselves away and the beasts of the night emerged.

It felt like home.

 

*  
For all the world travel he’d experienced over the years, Rome was new to him. To be fair, he’d stayed a night once and passed through it on multiple occasions, but he had never been in Rome for any prolonged period of time.

After his discussion with Finch they were both determined to get back to New York as quickly as possible, but in the end they opted to stay an evening. One evening turned into two, and then three, and Reese walked the street of Rome on the forth evening. Finch called it a vacation, Reese called it avoidance, but neither protested enough to actually get on the plane and leave. Something kept them there.

While they may have reconciled, Reese was still uneasy about the Machine and their task. Carter’s death still weighed on him, as did Root’s constant proximity to Finch. There were a lot of things he didn’t like and a small part of him wanted to stay in Rome forever. They could forget the Machine, forget their past, let Shaw go on her way, let Root go insane and eventually get herself killed, and just live for once. The thought of life without obligation was a pleasant one but quickly faded.

He walked the streets in Rome knowing obligation would only end when he was dead.

Frustrated he made his way back to the hotel with something in mind. He stepped into the room and Finch looked up from his laptop, a concerned look on his face. Reese assumed he must have looked as much like the storm that he felt brewing inside, from the look on Finch’s face.

“Harold.” It was spoken as a growl but something in it got Finch onto his feet.

“John?” He answered, standing calmly and confidently in the middle of the room.

“I-” Reese faltered just for a moment, trying to break through the dark haze he felt settling over him, “need you.”

“Then, Mr. Reese,” Finch’s tongue flicked over his lips in a nervous motion, “perhaps you should take what you need.”

There was comfort in touch and in taking what he needed. Reese so rarely allowed himself the luxury of taking, but he pressed their lips together like a starved man, hungry for connection. He pressed Finch against the wall. Eventually they made it to the bed in a tangle of clothes and limbs. It was messy, rough, probably too rough for their first time together but Reese needed it and Finch obliged.

They fell asleep together and Reese was certain he didn’t want to wake up.

 

*  
“Oh Mr. Reese, I’m glad you’re here.” Finch looked pleased which made Reese suspicious.

“Another number, Finch?” Reese asked, tugging at his earlobe thoughtfully as Bear sniffed him.

“No, certainly not. Our docket is clear and if anything comes up Ms. Shaw is more than capable of dealing with it.” He shot Reese a little half smile which really made him suspicious.

It had been difficult for Reese to find clarity after they returned from Rome. The numbers kept him busy but he was often bothered by thoughts of the future. He’d spent so long existing in the present during his time with the CIA that the future didn’t even exist for him. Though the longer he worked for Finch, the more he wondered where it would take them. The Machine was changing, Root was on the loose, and sometimes Reese felt they barely even had a handle on their numbers anymore. They got the job done but something was off about it.

There was a storm coming, worse than the one Finch had previously predicted, and it was making Reese anxious.

“Mr. Reese?” Finch broke through his thoughts and Reese turned his attention to his friend. Or, well, his lover now, he supposed. It was a strange situation all around.

“Yes, Harold?” Reese replied.

“You see, I’ve noticed that you have been a bit…less than amiable as of late. It is quite concerning to me, especially considering how distant you’ve been. So I am giving us the day off and I thought we could have a picnic.” Now Finch was watching Reese with a somewhat guarded expression. It was almost as if he expected Reese to laugh at him, mock the idea, or ask if it were a joke. Perhaps in the past he would have, but in that moment Reese was too caught up in the kind, uncharacteristically outward expression of concern.

In a moment he closed the distance between them and kissed Finch, his hand resting against the other man’s cheek.

“Am I to consider that a yes?” Finch murmured against his lips and Reese merely hummed in response.

“Get a room, you two.” Shaw’s voice came from the top of the stairs and both men looked over. “Seriously, watching you two kiss is the last thing I need to see. I’m here for the dog. Thought I’d watch him while you two go on your picnic, though I don’t understand why the hell you think it is a good idea to have a picnic in the middle of winter.”

Reese had to admit she had a point and glanced back at Finch, hoping to get an answer.

“Well, Ms. Shaw, as it so happens one of my aliases recently purchased a home with a lovely covered and heated back patio. All the joys of being outside without the chill.” He sounded proud of himself and it made Reese smirk.

“Thanks for taking the dog, Shaw. Try not to let him kill anyone. Bear?” the dog looked directly at him and stared intently, “Don’t let her kill anyone either.” Bear’s head cocked to the side and one of his ears fell back before he turned and padded over to Shaw.

Eventually they all made it out of the library and parted ways as Reese loaded the picnic basket into Finch’s car.

“You really bought a house just so we could have a picnic, Harold?” Reese asked as he slid into the passenger’s side and Finch got into the driver’s seat.

“I thought it would suit us both.” Finch replied simply and shrugged.

“Thank you.” Reese murmured as he settled back into his seat.

They drove in silence, but Finch was definitely smiling to himself and Reese liked it.


End file.
